Captive at Christmas (8 page)

“Good. Stand up and wait for me here. Don’t move.”

She did as he instructed, looking more shell-shocked than anyone he’d ever seen. Mac turned the body over and immediately, he recognized his would-be killer.

Mike Walsh. They last worked together on a job over six years ago, but before that, Mac cooperated with him at least once a year.

Ignoring the betrayal, he searched the man’s pockets for a phone and pulled it out. Lucky for him, it wasn’t password protected.

The last message was from the man who contracted the hit, asking for photo confirmation of the two bodies.

Two?

Mac scrolled down and nearly choked on his tongue. His name was of course listed there, but not the only one; Hannah. Someone hired Mike to kill Hannah too. He concentrated on that telephone number, wondering why it looked so familiar…

Aaron Wannamaker.

That two-faced, piece of shit rat-bastard, son-of-a-bitch!

The only person who knew where Mac was and who would be with him.

The only person who had, in the past, turned anyone in for money. He swore over and over that it was a one-time thing, that he wasn’t a snitch.

Now it all made sense.

“Hannah!”

“Y-yes?”

Ignoring the sadness in her voice, Mac kept his tone sharp and jarring. The only way he knew to get her to co-operate after such a traumatic event. “Get over here, I need your help.”

She complied, reaching his side just ten seconds later. “Yes?”

“I need to make it look like we’re dead and take a photograph. You’re not going to like this at all, but it has to be done.” Mac avoided her eyes as he continued to bark out commands.

“Okay,” she replied sotto voce.

“Lie down, right here.” Mac pointed to the snow in front of her and she did, without hesitation though her trembling hands proved how terrified she was. “I need to pose you so try and relax.”

“Okay John.”

“No,” he sighed. “My name is Mackenzie, most people call me Mac. I’m sorry that I lied to you but it was necessary.”

Hannah nodded and he scowled at her unrelenting trust of him.

They were in this damned position
because
of him! Couldn’t she see that? Was she incapable of ferocity when it came to him?

Mac cursed in his mind, shoving the thoughts away to clear his head for the task at hand.

He worked quickly, moving her arms and legs to make her look like someone who had been shot in the head and fell to the ground. It disgusted him to have to do it, but Mac scooped up a handful of blood from the dead body next to her and spread it over her face.

Hannah did not even flinch as a complete stranger’s bodily fluids were smeared across her bare flesh.

Not even once.

“I’m sorry, Hannah but I need to take this picture of us and send it to the person who ordered the hit so they’ll leave us alone.”

Unwilling to open her mouth, lest she get some of the other man’s blood in, she nodded.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.” The sentiment shocked him but he had a feeling that Hannah needed to hear it.

Hell that was a bold faced lie.

He just wanted to say it.

She did as he instructed and Mac finished up with her head, using small chunks of bark from a neighbouring tree to imitate a head wound. It wrenched his gut to see her like this; she actually appeared to be dead.

That was the point though.

Next he looked for a place to set up the phone to get a good picture of both of them. The stump was near enough and he built a makeshift stand, getting the perfect angle. He took Mike’s height into consideration and set the timer for three minutes. That gave him more than enough time to create his own wounds – it would take more than one shot to take him down, as he proved in the past – and lie down next to Hannah.

Like a trooper, she remained in the same spot, unmoving. Mac collected more blood and painted himself with it. The red wouldn’t show up on his dark clothes very well, but he put it there anyways. After nearly a minute and a half, he created a sufficient amount of false wounds and then took a knife from his pocket to tear holes in his shirt and jeans to simulate gunshots.

On the ground next to Hannah, he murmured words of encouragement and positioned himself in a believable pose. The warning beeps on the phone told him the picture would be taken soon and then he could get her cleaned up. The beeping started to increase in tempo and he whispered to her to hold her breath and remain still. A flash informed him that the picture had been taken.

“Stay here while I check, we may need to do another one.”

Mac went to the phone and checked the photograph which, thankfully, was just fine. It looked like two dead bodies, lying in the snow. He sent it to Aaron from Mike’s phone and a minute later, a reply came in. Aaron informed Mike that the money was in his account and they were ceasing all communication now, and for Mike to destroy his phone.

Before he could clean Hannah up, Mac had to get rid of the body. “Hannah, I need your help again. Come here, please.”

She pushed herself up from the ground and approached him. “What can I do?”

Removing his sweater, Mac used the back to wipe her face, hardly giving a thought to his torso bared to her. “I need you to help me dig a hole. Can you do that?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He longed to show her the tenderness that she deserved but now was not the time. Mac put his shirt back on and located two shovels in a small shed. Giving one to Hannah, he led her into the trees and picked a spot. They began to dig through the snow together, working without pause or conversation until dark. He paused when he smelled something burning – Hannah didn’t have time to turn the stove off and the bottom of a pan burnt through – then he went straight back to digging.

Not once did she complain or ask to take a break. She didn’t even stop to wipe the sheen of sweat from her brow or to get a jacket when she shivered. Hannah had more staying power than anyone he’d ever known and Mac respected that.

Respected her.

She really was everything she claimed to be, impossible as it seemed.

With the body sufficiently buried – as deep as they could get it in the frozen ground – and then covered with rocks, Mackenzie got rid of any and all evidence of the day’s events. Then he brought an exhausted Hannah inside, stripping her bloodied clothes off at the door as well as his own.

Naked and in his arms, though not exactly how he envisioned it happening, now was not the time to admire the smooth curves of her body.

Holding her tightly to his chest, he carried her to the shower and gently scrubbed every inch of her, removing all physical signs of the horror they just endured. She shuddered violently as the tears came, the absolute shock of the day hitting her just as hard as he knew it would.

Mac sat down cross-legged on the floor of the large tiled shower and held her body close, wishing that he could absorb this sweet woman into his flesh and keep her as a part of him forever.

“Hannah, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I should have just let you go back home,” he sighed, gently kneading his fingers over her scalp.

“Mackenzie.” She leaned back, looking up into his eyes.

When she spoke his name – his real name – Mac groaned, never imagining how good it might sound coming from her lips. His eyes locked onto her mouth, soft, small and coral pink. Slightly parted, her lips were a most welcome sight. If this had been another day, he would most definitely lean closer to taste her. Just the thought made his shaft twitch.

“Mac. Are you alright?”

The question and the softness in her voice as she asked it caused his temper to veer to the brink, reason eluding him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Hannah?” The stern voice didn’t seem to surprise her this time. “Why are you asking if I’m alright? What about you? Aren’t you pissed off that I dragged you into this? Why aren’t you blaming me? Telling me off? Christ, Hannah! Yell at me…scream…hit me…but do
something
! React, God dammit!”

“Is that what you want?” she matched his tone, her usually soft voice rising to irate. “You want me to blame you for the life that you have lived, for the acts that you have committed? Well I don’t and I won’t. Yes, you obviously did some horrible deeds and had things done to you that I will never be able to empathize with, but that doesn’t change anything!”

Hannah straddled his bare hips with her slender legs, wrapping them firmly around his waist until her heels touched his back. She weaved her hands through his hair and clung to him, staring into his eyes. The hard length of him pressed against the softness of her slick feminine folds was a harsh reminder of the horribly inappropriate attraction they shared.

“Just because I’m not reacting the way you think I should, doesn’t mean that my head isn’t a crazy mess right now, Mackenzie. I pride myself on being reasonable and rational – how else would I have dealt with my brother when he came home from his missions?” She didn’t miss his confusion and explained what she meant. “He was in the Joint Task Force for years, although I assume that, after some time, he moved on to a more clandestine faction. One that didn’t operate under normal governing rules.”

Ah, now it makes sense
.

Mac sighed, desperately trying to ignore the hardened buds of her nipples as they moved over his chest. “Your foundation,” he murmured.

“Yes, that’s why I started it. So that people might come to have even a slight understanding of what their loved ones sacrifice on a daily basis in order for us to continue to enjoy all of the freedoms afforded to us. I know that none of us will ever fully comprehend what you do and the horrors that you’ve endured, Mac, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to.”

Even though he heard the words she spoke, he couldn’t believe that they were real – that she was real. It didn’t make sense that there might actually be people like her existing in this or any other world. “I don’t understand you, Hannah,” he admitted. “I want to, but I don’t. After what just happened, a normal person would be in shock.”

She nodded, smoothing her thumbs along the edge of his jaw. “I am shocked Mac, but think about it this way; if I didn’t do what I had to do, then neither you nor I would be here right now. I don’t blame you and no matter how much you want me to, it’s not going to happen. Just accept that.”

Unable – or perhaps unwilling – to come up with a coherent answer, he responded by capturing her mouth and delving past her lips with his tongue on her gasp. He thought she might pull away but Hannah tilted her head, allowing him full access to the deepest reaches of her soft, warm mouth. Meeting him with the same amount of passion, she eagerly lapped at his tongue, nipped his lip and opened herself to him.

She tenderly moved her hands over the contours of his body, exploring with the soft tips of her fingers. With every stroke, she healed the painful memory that belonged to each scar. Hannah stirred up a torrential hunger inside of him so strong that he ached in all the right places. The frantic need clawing at his loins screamed to take her right there in the shower as warm water rained down on them from above but she deserved more.

The first to break away, Mac rose and turned off the shower while a confused Hannah stared up at him, her legs still wrapped tightly around his waist in a near death grip. He stepped out and took one thick, fluffy towel from the stack, using it to dry her hair, face and every part of her below. He took her to the bed, gazing at her with a question in his eyes that she answered by pulling him down on top of her.

“Mackenzie,” she whispered, holding his jaw. “I want to know you, every part of you.”

He groaned her name, recapturing her lips. Never much of a man for words, he decided to show her exactly what she’d done to him since the moment they met. With the delicate caress of his fingertips over the impossibly smooth flesh of her face, neck and collarbone, Mac finally came to rest just inches above her breasts. He gave her one last chance to walk away from this, to walk away from him.

“I can’t give you what you need, Hannah. I can’t give you a future and you know that – especially after…” A deep, soul-crushing sigh left his lungs.